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The Closer to Genius, the Closer to Insanity?

11/06/2014 11:34 BST | Updated 10/08/2014 10:59 BST

I think I'm quickly descending into complete and all-encompassing mental incompetence. The other day, while working on wedding invitations with my mom, I could not, for the life of me, remember what the abbreviation for Doctor was. I just stared at the paper dumbly and wrote down Dc. Dc.? Really? What the hell has happened to my brain? My mom just stared at me and said, "Wow...and you were high honors with everything in school." My response was that my brain blew a fuse.

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I'm not kidding...my brain has been overworked for 32 years, which led to awesome grades, but now I've become a 90 year old woman mentally. Just like a house that's juicing too much electricity, then blows a fuse disabling all its functions, so too has my brain done. Accompanying the academic achievements was the overly analytical, hyper anxiety/OCD combination which has led me to my present mind combustion. I'm not bragging or being arrogant when I say this: I kind of wish I hadn't been so intelligent growing up; perhaps it would have led to less over-stimulation and hyper-awareness, thus less anxiety. If I were dumber, I'd probably be more carefree. I'm not saying I'm a genius, but don't they say that a lot of geniuses end up losing their minds? Maybe the smarter we are, the further we fall mentally.

I can say with confidence that I'm losing many of my cognitive abilities. If you need someone to help you remember something, don't ask me; I am most definitely not your girl. My fiancé has learned not to start any question with, "Do you remember...," because the answer will always inevitably be no.

Also, everything I touch lately turns to shit. I break pretty much everything, mess up everything mechanical or technological, and have nearly burned the house down a couple times making Rice r' Roni, (boxed rice mix that's impossible for any normal human to screw up), and making toast. Yep, that's right; I can't even toast a f*cking piece of bread. There is a new house rule that I'm not allowed to cook anything without adult supervision.

Thank goodness I'm cute, otherwise I don't know how my man would have the patience to deal with me. Apparently, my incompetence is somewhat endearing and adds to my charm because he says that I'm easy to love. I'm just going to have to take his word for it.

My therapist told me that maybe my brain blew a fuse, but it's because it's preparing for some rewiring. Man, I hope she's right.

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